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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527541">A few beers and a sip of French wine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/argonautic/pseuds/argonautic'>argonautic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>'Sod it all off and kiss her', Developing Relationship, F/M, Not so drunk sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:02:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/argonautic/pseuds/argonautic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>James had decided it wasn’t the right time to start a relationship, but resolutions are made to be broken.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James May/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Some sort of disclaimer: many thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana"> marginaliana </a> for having painstakingly tried to fix my grammar; unfortunately, I've changed a few things after her intervention so here we are.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He woke up, and promptly felt a presence beside him. Someone, in his bedroom, next to him. James quickly recalled the main events of the night just in time to not panic, deciding they were too much to deal with at – what time was it, three something in the morning – and got to the loo since that was what his bladder had woken him up for.</p><p>When he woke up for the second time, daylight breaking in through the windows’ fixtures, he felt again, more distinctly now, that sum of physical alterations induced by someone’s presence in a closed environment: warmness mostly, but also a faint scent in the air and, along with them, a tight clamp on the sheet they were sharing. It wasn’t a completely new feeling overall, but it'd been a while since the last time he’d experienced it. Not since his relationship with Sarah had gone to hell – quite a polite and clean hell, he must admit, since she behaved as gracefully as she always did, even in leaving him – but still, it'd been months since he last shared the bed with someone.</p><p>Still curled on his side, eyes closed, he listened to her easy-paced breath coming from behind his back. A few hours before she asked him if she could sleep there and he just answered, "No problem,” like it was the most obvious thing ever. ‘How did we end up like this, exactly?’ he would have liked to ask in return, but he thought it would have been rude to try to start a conversation while she wanted to sleep.</p><p>And, speaking of rudeness, his eyes went wide at the sudden thought of how rude it might have been to sleep with his back turned to his – <em>well, guest, guest could work</em>, he thinks – so he slowly shifted and turned to lie flat, hoping not to wake her up. Because he was pretty sure she was still sleeping, considering how her breath came and went smoothly, and from his different position he could see she was turning her back to him too, entangled in a good fraction of the sheet, so at least he stopped thinking it was impolite to do the same. Good.</p><p>Definitely good of him, to not have acted impolitely while they both were sleeping, to have behaved like a well-mannered gentleman. Now, it would have been useful to find out what a well-mannered gentleman should do when he wakes up next to the woman he invited back to his place the night before. He'd intended to offer just one last drink, but instead they ended up shag – <em>no, not just shagging, not making love either – obviously not love, let’s say having sex</em>. Quite pleasant sex, by the way. Even if, in all sincerity, he hadn’t planned it to end like this – it hadn’t planned it at all. It'd been six months since Sarah and he didn't feel like having any kind of relationship yet, their split too recent, his schedule too busy.</p><p>That also accounted for his insecurity at that point. It’s been years – decades – since he last went to bed with someone he wasn't in a relationship with. And he hadn't exactly been good at handling the morning after even then. So, instead of focusing on why he’d instinctively changed his mind and kissed her and everything after, he resolved to just ask himself what he should have done next.</p><p>He tried to mentally arrange his next steps, from silently slipping out of the bed not waking her up, to taking the shower he didn't manage to have after they'd finished making – <em>no, having sex</em> – because he was too exhausted. And then maybe also eating something, before the rumblings from his stomach woke her up. A good plan to avoid any awkward conversation, also: the ‘How did we end like this, exactly?’ question was still unanswered in his mind but he didn’t want to know her reasons after all - he was still uncertain about his.  </p><p>He moved the sheet aside, carefully, since she was still sleeping and might have enjoyed doing it for a while more. But. What if she’d woken up while he was having the shower or, worse, his breakfast? he thought. That would have been extremely impolite, to have left her alone just to fulfil his material needs. Oh what's the etiquette after this one-night stand kind of events? He felt too old to know, and he didn’t even know if this <em>was</em> exactly a one-night stand. <em>Oh, bollocks, </em>he thought, he hadn’t meant it to end up like this, he woke up a minute before and he felt already tired and exhausted; he turned again on his side – slowly – to finally get up.</p><p>"You awake?" she mumbled. </p><p>James froze for a fraction of a second before answering, "Er, yes." She turned her face, squinting at the morning light."May I use the bathroom?"</p><p>“Sure."</p><p>"Thanks." She unwound the linen she was curled in and headed out the bedroom door. Still tense and worried for any development of that brief conversation, he only relaxed when he heard the shower turned on. He decided he'll use the lavatory downstairs and finally got up.</p><p>He managed to get back to his bedroom without overthinking too much more about the night just passed, lost in his morning routine and in the minor adjustments required by showering in an unusual location. Through the door frame he saw her already getting dressed and just stared at her, trying to find the right words to start. She flinched as she realized he was looking at her, glanced briefly at him over her shoulder and lowered her gaze while putting on her jeans before talking. "I'm sorry, I know I was irresponsible last night. Just want you to know I get periodically tested at work and, well, I'm not that active in that department, so I'm reasonably clean… and, no offense, but if there's something I should know please just tell me, so if there's anything I could do I might be still in time to…"</p><p>He stared back at her, too puzzled to respond and tempted to just generically apologize for whatever he might had done that led the two of them waking up in the same bed, before he slowly realised that she was referring to something else. He understood what she was talking about a moment too late, just while she explained while tying her shoes: "STDs. I'm clean. Hope you are too, please just tell me if you’re not so…"</p><p>Oh, right. Quite pleasant but bloody unprotected sex. Nothing to be proud of. "Oh, yes, got it, sorry, no, I mean, I'm clean I presume, never had anything. And I'm not that active as well - apart from last night I mean". <em>Oh gosh, that was so stupid to say</em>, he though. She just nodded back, and he couldn’t help but understand that gesture as a maternal kind of tolerance of how idiotic he must have been in saying that. He’d better have acted like that well-mannered gentleman he depicted in his head soon, or like a decent human being at least, got to straighten his back and take action, say something resolute and yet thoughtful, despite the mixed feelings in his brain. Hence he offered, "Can I make you something for breakfast?" </p><p>"Oh. That's kind of you. Thanks, better not." James was sure she spotted his bravery suddenly fading in a shade of disappointment on his face, but she didn’t seem moved by the scene "Just want to go to get a morning after pill, you know, it was a bit… messy tonight, and you never know."</p><p>"Er, right, I see."</p><p>"So, I'm going, the sooner the better," she said, heading down the stairs.</p><p>"Right, well… " He tried to keep going while following her but he must have looked like a real plonker again, because once they both got to the front door her expectant face turned into something too much similar to an indulgent smile, “Apart from technicalities, well, it's been… good. But I’d better go now, ok?" she said, and it didn’t sound like a sop, but it was still far from an actual appreciation to James’ opinion.</p><p>She lingered, staring at him expectantly, and despite his doubts about her real opinion, he chose to answer frankly "It was good. I'm not sure there's anything I can do now about those technicalities but if so just tell me, it's up to me as well and…" but she cut him off sharp'y. "No, no need to, I just have to go and buy it. So, again, have a nice day, hope to see you soon."</p><p>As he realised much later, James didn’t take those last words as the standard pleasantries they probably were meant to be and answered way too excitedly  "Oh, yes, tomorrow? Tomorrow night?"</p><p>"Maybe. I'll text you, okay?" she answered at the same time as she opened the door, then she walked outside.</p><p>"Bye. Take care," he said while she was already a few steps away on the sidewalk, and she looked back and winked at him, without stopping. When she was out of sight, he suddenly became conscious of a few things: first, it felt like there should have been a kiss in a certain moment between waking up and parting, but she’d just flew away; second, he'd got a meeting to attend the following evening; third, he was going to need some tea.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No, better that there hadn’t been no kissing, James was reconsidering while taking the glasses from the table, his precious red wine still inside them, to put them in the sink. He forced the used cork inside the bottle’s neck, and kept pondering: no, no kissing, no concessions to feelings he can’t afford now. It was already quite difficult to deal with what had happened the night before, for which maybe the awkward pragmatism of their exchange in the morning had been a blessing, all considered. He’d better have filed that as just a drunken – barely tipsy, honestly – decision, something consensual they both enjoyed. Well, at least <em>he</em> did. He couldn’t deny he’d been alone for a while, and she was great company and good looking, and perhaps feeling alone as well as him, despite what she’d been saying. But, in the end, they were both adult and they’d ended up doing what adult people do. Except that he hadn't planned to do it. And he couldn’t argue it just had been alcohol's effect at work, not for him at least; perhaps it was the lack of that kind of human contact, but he didn’t want to admit being so miserable that he'd forget about his resolution of avoiding relationships and sticking to work.</p><p>He'd planned to put off relationships at least until he was done with all the projects he’d picked up to fill up the post-breakup spare time he’d been left with; he'd done his best to take advantage of all the perks of his  situation, both to get more work done and to distract himself from either being alone or picking up someone on rebound. The more he thought about it, the better it had sounded, a practical strategy to carry on and concentrate on his job, letting the emotional situation cool down a bit.</p><p>That was the spirit he was living in when he first met her; he was just behind her in the queue at the counter at what she later told him was her favourite spot for lunch and, when she accidentally tried to pay with her work badge instead of a card, and then clumsily dropped the contents of her wallet on the floor, he cracked a joke with the intention of lessening her embarrassment. She smirked silently while picking up her things, her dark eyes quite easily mistaken for a death stare, and he instantly regretted having spoken, nevertheless she waved at him and smiled in passing as she headed out of the place.</p><p>They started to share greetings when they came across each other at lunch time, until that one day when the place was fuller than usual and she waved him over to take the free seat at her table. He couldn’t refuse, for both politeness and necessity. "Hi, it seems everybody’s pretty hungry today," she said and offered her hand:</p><p>"I’m Beth, by the way."</p><p>"James."</p><p>“I guess I know your name, but it’s nice to meet you."</p><p>They managed to made brief small talk before she finished her lunch and left, and it was enjoyable enough that when two days later James spotted her eating there alone, he was the one asking if he could sit at her table. He learned that she was an interventional radiologist (‘sounds complicated but it’s just a plumber for humans’) and lived in South London, that she had a small collection of succulents and was hopeless at cooking, in addition to some rudiments of radiation physics and vascular diseases.</p><p>From that day they shared a table every time they both were there. He tried his best to keep the whole thing casual; a couple of times she nonchalantly mentioned the perks of living alone, and he wasn't too out of the loop to understand she wasn’t interested in him. Which was good, of course, because he wasn't looking for anything. But he enjoyed the chance for good conversation and let himself indulge in visiting the restaurant more often than he had before. They met up twice or three times a week, depending on their schedules. It was a good ten-minute walk from her workplace, but the hospital canteen was terrible, she explained, and she couldn't stand being surrounded by colleagues at lunch time.</p><p>Trivial or serious, they managed to have a few interesting conversations despite the little time, but once the topic got to be beer, he firmly refused to discuss it further without having the chance to actually taste them.  And since she couldn't have alcohol at lunch, he suggested to meet at the pub the night after.</p><p>James couldn't deny she was growing on him. She was enjoyable company to talk with while having lunch, and when he proposed the pub, he knew he was hoping for a chance to have a longer talk, maybe slightly more intimate, starting from beer. But he sincerely hadn't been thinking of anything more. He was still clung to his resolution later that night, when after having tried a couple of craft beers – three for him - the topic of their talk slowly switched to wines, and he was already tipsy enough to stubbornly insist in proving his point on French reds by opening the bottle of Châteauneuf-du-pape he had at home. "It’s just around the corner, come on, you’ll agree with me after having tasted it," he insisted.</p><p>But despite that resolution, once in his kitchen he found himself stepping behind her, holding her wrist to guide her movements to properly swirl the wine, and he realized that he was almost embracing her a second too late. He quickly checked her reaction, fearing he’d made an unwelcome move, but she looked at him with delighted bright dark eyes. Perhaps later he might have liked to claim that it was the alcohol that made him give up his best intentions, but at the moment it was more something sounding quite similar to ‘sod it all off and kiss her’ that rang inside his mind and, well, he went for it. And for everything after. He scratched his nape recalling such a detail, a pink blush forming on his cheeks. <em>Oh god May, what have you done?</em></p><p>More importantly, what was he going to do now? Just be brutally honest with her and tell the truth, that he didn’t plan to get that far, or at least not so soon? That sounded terrible, and it would also involve being brutally honest with himself as well. That was, admitting that she’d somehow grown on him more than he wanted to accept. And, shamefacedly, that it had been ages since he’d last felt as wanted as the night before, when she had grabbed both sides of the neck of his shirt and pulled him towards her to kiss him, or kept him close kissing and caressing him, or whispered soft words in the crook of his neck, and please don’t let that be just good manners in sexual encounters because they’d definitely caused something in his brain and in a couple of other organs too.</p><p>And that wasn’t a good thing. No, okay, it was a good thing. It was a great night, both the pub and everything else. Maybe somehow complicated on both sides but overall good. It just wasn’t a good thing at the moment, since he'd already decided upon being too busy to – oh he might as well just have admitted it – give it a try and see where it might go. He had been doing his best to keep the whole thing idling while waiting for his schedule to thin out. But what happened last night had been a bit too engaging to keep being considered as a chance for the future only.</p><p>He needed to talk with her –  as awkward as it might be – keeping his fingers crossed that she wouldn't be offended about the whole situation,  given he still wasn’t sure of what to think about it. It was a big step from sharing a table at a coffee place, so maybe she’d misunderstood the whole pub thing - even if she had accidentally got it right, in the end. Maybe she'd missed him having planned it like a chaps’ night out and not some kind of date, and had been somehow expecting this development, therefore she'd just dashed off to avoid even thinking about what happened, somehow disappointed by his behaviour. She’d never made any move in that direction and professed contentment with her single life, but at the same time she hadn’t rejected any of his intentions, from his attempt to kiss her onwards. Yet she'd run off in the morning with what sounded to him a questionable justification, a reaction he didn’t know what to ascribe to, if cold resolution or panicky regret.</p><p>He checked the time and cursed himself and this whole situation for making him late for his first appointment that day – and wasn’t that a clear sign he wasn’t ready to get involved with someone? He quickly went back to the lavatory for a last wee before going out, and while pulling his pants down he started cursing his willy as well, just for being such a senseless attachment which was always up to no good.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had work to do and managed to avoid thinking of her until lunch time, when his first instinct made him contemplate the chance to go and talk to Beth at their usual spot. But the coffee place was on the other side of the city and, thinking further, she wouldn’t have been there anyway as she’d told him she was having  lunch at home when working the afternoon shift, like that day, so no point in looking for her there. And, well, it might have been awkward anyway considering what happened last night, too straightforward and probably too soon. No coffee place then, and he'd rather not think about whether the easy awareness of someone else’s schedule - while being desperately overwhelmed by his own - might have qualified as a mild symptom of being  in something. Checking his mobile he saw that she hadn’t texted either, but he remembered there was a 24-hour rule or something similar that applies to this kind of stuff, so he decided to wait. James asked around the office for a good place to try for lunch and, once sat in front of a chicken salad, he concentrated on his plans for the afternoon and stopped thinking about her.</p>
<p>Once back home after dinner and drinks from his newly recruited associates, his plans to go straight to bed were diverted by the scent of what happened the night before, right in that same spot where he was standing. He turned on the telly and sat on the sofa, two fingers of whisky in his glass; whatever passed on the screen couldn’t distract him from recalling last night’s events, but he closed his eyes for good measure when his mind provided him the hottest scenes, complete with shivers running up his spine. At the end of the replay, that also included the brisk management of the morning after, he grabbed his glass and among the sips of his drinks, he tried to evaluate the choices he had. He could have found an acceptable excuse for his behaviour and call it off, maybe for the best, otherwise he would have to give up his resolutions at least to see where that was going – despite the jumbled start. When he reached the bottom of the glass he was tempted to text her and just ask if everything was all right, or wrong, or why the hell she’d been so distant the morning after. He was inebriated enough to admit that it was quite an infatuation he'd developed for her and it seemed alcohol worked perfectly – again – to make him sod off the rest and accept he had searched for more than comfort in her arms. And he wouldn’t mind doing it again - apart from the morning-after when she’d just dressed and ran away;  he still couldn’t process that part and it felt like he was missing a bit. At last, he accepted his late-night realisation and finally went to bed.  </p>
<p>The morning after he sat at the table in front of the first cup of tea of the day, checking his mobile – still no texts from her, he couldn’t help noticing – and then the calendar; his plans for the day were as full as usual, starting with recording voiceovers and things in the morning, his routine medical check-up in the afternoon, and that meeting in the evening. It was already past lunch time when he was finally done with all the recordings, too late to get to their lunch spot; she would have already left and, again, he really didn’t know if it was a good idea to see her again like that. He took his mobile out and, among all the notifications collected in the last three hours while he’d kept it on silent, there was the text from Beth he was looking forward to receiving: ‘Hey. You said something about tonight if I remember, and I'd like to talk, so, pub later?’</p>
<p>Oh, right. He had actually said something about that same night, in the hurry of trying to keep up with her who was almost running away, but he didn’t realize he would have been busy somewhere else. He contemplated for a split second the possibility of calling in sick, but no, it was quite an important meeting – it was a while since they last sat around a table to decide on which of their ideas to work with. He hadn’t decided what to do yet when he read her text again and, at that second reading, he felt that for such a meagre text, the ‘talk’ part precisely, sounded a bit demanding. Not the kind of text he was waiting for, honestly. It felt cold and pragmatic, <em>just like her in the morning</em>, and even if he’d imagined this to be awkward, well, that was so aseptically straightforward that he was disappointed. He grew concerned that she just planned to overanalyse their last encounter – especially given that he worried he might had disappointed her somehow. Maybe he was right, maybe she wasn’t interested in him and just wanted to hear his apologies or tell him off. No, not that night. He texted her back a deliberately neutral message. ‘Sorry, busy tonight, but I'll let you know if there's another time’. He didn’t wait for her answer and just headed for the nearest fish and chips.</p>
<p>Later at the doctor’s, while sitting in the waiting room for his name to be called, he was staring blindly at a point just under the low-volume telly in the corner on the room, refreshing the ideas he was going to discuss with his mates in the forthcoming meeting. He didn’t really follow the random talk show that was playing, until the word ‘STDs’ caught his attention among the background noises. He raised his gaze focusing on the screen to check what was all about and he flinched at the caption scrolling on: ‘Sextortion: fake STDs tests, harassment accusations and pregnancy claims – latest scam leaving victims pants down,’ it read, and he stopped and tried to listen carefully to the piece. As he kept watching the whole report, he added all the pieces he finds fitting – quite classy women, unexpected development, a couple of famous chaps tricked too – to his jigsaw, and fuck, they were a lot. When the show host cut the subject off and launched  into the weather forecast, he had already drew the inconvenient conclusion: what if? Could it have been the missing bit? <em>Oh please May, </em>he thought,<em> have the good grace to not develop feelings for a potential blackmailer.</em></p>
<p>The nurse called his number and he was pulled back to reality, standing up and heading towards the doctor’s office trying his best to keep cool  since he reckoned making the blood pressure meter explode wouldn’t grant him the fit for work certification he needed. Once dismissed by the doctor, the attention needed to drive to the office prevented him from overthinking about the whole range of sex-related threats he’d never thought of and if they might somehow have related to Beth’s behaviour, forcing him to concentrate on not accidentally killing cyclists instead of trying to sort out what basis for extortion he might have given her last night. A traffic light gave him enough time to evaluate of her concern for STDs as a good sign or as a red flag, a premonition or a slip about her plan. When the light turned green, he quickly decided to cling to the idea that, whatever she might have claimed, it would have been her words against his, and – <em>it’s not presumptuousness if you’re innocent</em>, he granted himself – he had a credibility she couldn’t have, even claiming to be the victim. So again, not a good plan, seen from her shoes. But he didn’t feel like it could  be ruled out completely, so he enlisted it in the well-assorted range of doubts he was nursing about her. It was a good thing he’d chosen not to call in sick and attend the meeting nevertheless. It would just do him good to get there, get distracted from his concerns and perhaps end with some unexpected advice on how to deal with the whole thing. Or, at least, a shoulder to – metaphorically – cry on.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The meeting provided the right amount of distraction but not any helpful hints for his current situation. Once they moved to the pub he felt time running out and couldn’t help but quickly find someone reliable enough to take advice from: not the easiest task ever, considering his company. He made his choice among the people around him and, with a glance asking for stepping aside from the crowd, he asked, “Hammond, before you get morbidly drunk and therefore untreatable, can we have a chat? I might need your opinion on a thing.”</p>
<p>“Bikes?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s gonna be one of those lectures about the effect of air viscosity on neatly arranging tools on the counter,” Hammond said, rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>“Not that either.”</p>
<p>“Okay then, let’s hear it”, Hammond agreed as they moved to a table in a corner. James took a couple of glances around, checking no one was at hearing distance or interested in their dialogue, then started explaining the whole scenario. He started with how they met and how the small talk had evolved into interesting lunch time conversations, to the latest developments at the pub and the consequent snogging session that ended up to the bedroom. When he got to describe her attitude the morning after, he tried his best to sound as unemotional as possible, hiding his worried interest under a sort of anthropological analysis. Hammond’s eyes kept getting increasingly wider with every statement added, until he recovered his standard features just for an instant, before bursting out laughing, as James said, “And what if she has planned everything just to bIackmail me?”</p>
<p>“For what allegedly nonsense reason do you assume she’s going to blackmail you?” Hammond asked, still chuckling.</p>
<p>“Come on, we weren’t that drunk and we had unprotected sex, and it seems to be the latest trend around, haven’t you seen the news?”</p>
<p>“Well for as stupid as it may have been, I assume you both enjoyed it, right? And you can’t assume how drunk someone else is – well until a certain point at least. So, again, what reasons does she have to threaten you, unless you’re aware she’s working for the Daily Mail or something, I mean.”</p>
<p>”No, she’s a healthcare professional – or at least that’s what she said. And she’s never seemed that interested in me, we’ve just kept meeting at lunch time, until I asked her to get to the pub for once…”</p>
<p>“James. That’s called a date.”</p>
<p>“No, it was just–“  but he couldn’t finish his clarification because a well-beyond-tipsy Clarkson crept in between them inquiring, “Wait wait what? Has James May actually dated someone? A standard human being?”</p>
<p>“Wait for the part when he got her pregnant…” Hammond said, to Clarkson’s shock, soon turning into disappointment “What? Oh, I must know you were kidding...”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Hammond. Well, the point is-”</p>
<p>“Did you actually get her pregnant?” a newly intrigued Clarkson asked.</p>
<p>“No! Point is I’m trying to–“ he said, but Hammond cut him off.</p>
<p>“Truth is he’s not – maybe never was – used to the customs of casual sex and he’s overreacting to what actually is more than an acceptable behaviour from his last hook-up.”</p>
<p>“She’s not my last hook-up! I don’t do hook-ups, for the love of God, I didn’t plan to shag her!” James said firmly, but Clarkson didn't let it go.</p>
<p>“James. Did you shag her at least?” he said ruthlessly.</p>
<p>“That’s the whole point, Clarkson, yes!” James bitterly answered.</p>
<p>“NEXT ROUND ON ME CHAPS, my boy has finally become a man!” Clarkson shouted, pointing toward the bartender, while James rolled his eyes and contemplated homicide.</p>
<p>“Oh stop it, he’s already plastered, nobody is giving him credit”, Hammond said. “But you’re wrong anyway: the point is not if you’ve shagged her – it’s okay, well done mate by the way – the point is you’re doing your best to avoid admitting you’ve got a real thing for her – so thank me for not telling Jeremy the truth.”</p>
<p><em>Oh crap, I’m so transparent</em>, James thought. The wall of careful lack of emotion he’d cobbled together crumbled, leaving him naked and deflated. And from behind the strand of hair he had kept readjusting the whole time talking, now fallen on his eyes, he confessed, “I quite like her, but I didn’t mean to get that far, it’s… it’s too soon, I’m too busy now - and she just bolted in the morning,  so I guess I’ve got something wrong.”</p>
<p>“James. What if, among all the idiotic things you assume you’ve done, you’re also being an arse towards someone who was somehow interested in you, and was just as unprepared as you for the turn things took? Is this really less  than her being a scammer or whatever?”</p>
<p>“The fact you're missing the chance to take the piss about her being desperate enough to be interested in me almost worries me.”</p>
<p>"As dreadful as it might be for humanity", Hammond said, "I still find easier to understand someone who's into you than someone plotting to blackmail you. Anyway, if this is not just a shag – for you both I mean – try not to hurt her feelings with your paranoia. If you haven't already done it.” and waited for a reaction. But James kept silent, pondering Hammond’s words, so after a moment Hammond kept going. “Have you talked to her yet? After she left, I mean?”</p>
<p>“Should have seen her tonight but, you know, the meeting. Couldn’t skip it.”</p>
<p>“So?”</p>
<p>“Haven’t planned to see her again yet, to be honest. Don’t want to deal with her if it just means having to withstand her recriminations.”</p>
<p>“You're just guessing. Be a man and talk to her again, whatever you’re planning to do.”</p>
<p>“It’s just that…”</p>
<p>“May, it’s plain simple: don’t chicken out, don’t hurt her. You’re overthinking this whole thing and I’m not having this conversation anymore. You need to face her and I need huge amounts of alcohol to make up for time lost talking with you,” Hammond said, and left towards the bar. Unsatisfied by Hammond’s response, <em>that’s not so simple</em>, James resignedly decided to make do with alcohol, and joined him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James woke up dealing with the hangover, made worse by the things Hammond had said, echoing in his head like a mantra: <em>don’t chicken out, don’t hurt her</em>. The morning shower did not wash away bad thoughts the way they say, nor headaches, even despite the way he spent long minutes just standing motionless, letting the hot water thunder against the nape of his neck. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think at all yet, but as the steam slowly fills the stall, his sore mind provided him blurred images from that night – some kind of low-quality slide show, focused on how tightly she’d fitted around him, sweet and hot – and if he ended up comparing the two of them to a freshly baked caramel custard it’s perhaps because he was sleepy and hungry and dazed, but he decided it fitted anyway. <em>Hot, and sweet, quite sweet for it to be a drunken shag.</em> He tried to dismiss those considerations, but they had already triggered an uncomfortable awakening in his cock. He curled his fingers around the shaft and gave it a few strokes, aiming to rub the itch away but inadvertently giving himself a proper erection instead. <em>Well done May, transforming a small inconvenience into a bigger one, </em>he scolded himself, then he just shrugged and resigned himself to dealing with it in the easiest way.</p><p>He placed a hand flat on the tiles to keep balanced and started to properly stroke himself, regular and firm. It was nothing like what Beth had offered him, his hand wasn’t as smooth and soft as she was, but he knew the best angles and all the sensitive spots. He closed his eyes to replay scenes from that night and it worked just as well. He kept panting in the stifling heat until he came, shuddering in relief. Once he got his breath back he couldn’t help appreciating the practicality of his location, as it meant he can start washing himself just like nothing had happened.</p><p>The headache has gotten better, but he swallowed a tablet as soon as he got to the kitchen for good measure before starting to brew what was going to be a stronger than usual cup of tea. Dwelling upon Hammond’s words wasn’t his plan for the miraculously appointment-free morning – he honestly admitted neither was wanking at the thought of Beth, for that matter – but nevertheless they kept swirling around in his head. He finished his tea and his gaze got lost at the bottom of the empty cup as he asked himself if he had really become miserable enough to rely on Hammond’s two-line tips – and accepted he may had.</p><p>So, for the ‘don’t chicken out’ part, he came to terms with it, once and for all: <em>so it turns out you’ve got quite an infatuation for her, May, you hopeless romantic sod. </em>And, while he hated Hammond for having a point, he needed to talk with he, at least to understand her intentions before trying and sorting out his own.</p><p>And whether Beth was actually interested in him, or drunk, or just exploiting his guilty naivety, well, he was determined to discover it soon. That same night, if possible. He put the cup on the counter and grabbed his phone: after a few attempts, he managed to compose what he reckoned was the perfect text, aiming for the right balance of interest and casualness. His masterpiece read:</p><p>‘Hello, I’m fortuitously free tonight, still on for a pint?’</p><p>He checked it one last time and hit ‘Send’, feeling pleased with himself for finally having made a move. It took a while for his phone to buzz, but when he read her answer, he couldn’t help hiding a smug grin.</p><p>‘That would be great, same time same place?’</p><p><em>It worked, well done May,</em> he congratulated himself and impulsively texted back a straightforward ‘Yes’.</p><p>‘Perfect, see you there then! xoxo’</p><p>Oh. He stared at his phone dumbfounded until its screen turned off. <em>Hold your horses May</em>, he thought,<em> that doesn’t necessarily mean anything like what the sudden butterflies in your stomach are suggesting</em>. He closed his eyes and tried to get back his normal breathing pace, hoping his heartbeat would follow along, because he felt far too old to afford himself an emotional breakdown after an ‘xoxo’ at the end of a text. But something has gotten warmer inside him, regardless, and he was going to face the umpteenth production meeting scheduled for the afternoon with a different mood than he'd anticipated.</p><p>For the ‘don’t hurt her’ part, well, he was afraid he might had left a mark or two, since things got a bit hectic, but he knew Hammond didn’t mean that – not even imagined it, hopefully.</p><p>As for the wider meaning he wasn’t going to snivel about it, but since he’s been wracking his brain on the whole thing he rather thought he might be accounted among the hurt ones. Nonetheless, he also acknowledged she might not have left his home completely happy, hence her conduct the morning after. Maybe she just wasn’t proud of what happened, maybe she was unimpressed and annoyed. It was indisputably consensual, so unless she had been more intoxicated than he assumed, there was no harm done there.</p><p>Because it had unquestionably been him who’d made the first move. He recalled the impulsive attempt he’d made while they were jokingly twirling glasses, and her amazed look before she tilted her head to match his mouth. He soon pulled back to check her reaction, probably looking concerned since she murmured "Oh no, it's nice" and closed the gap between them, kissing him again, tentative but warm. She broke the kiss just to safely place her glass on the table next to his, and when she turned back, she stared at him as if she was investigating the mysteries of the world through his eyes. He clearly remembered that he had deliberately pulled her closer and kissed her again, deeper this time, and if he couldn’t blame the alcohol for that, he surely didn’t mean to take advantage of her either. It just had seemed the right thing to do.</p><p>Beth hadn't stopped him from kissing her though, hadn't restrained his hands when they were sliding under her loose shirt, his thumbs instinctively running along the contours of her back. Instead she responded, placing her hands on his cheeks and gently tilting his head for a better angle, tracing with her fingers the line of his jaw until she reached his hairline and slowly wrapped her fingertips in his hair, tugging him in to keep their mouths pressed together – except for the amount of time spent exchanging brief, enthusiastic words, often fading in gasps. So, no advantage taken, right?</p><p>He lifted her onto the table by grabbing her sides – trying to be gentle although he couldn't deny the hurry – to make it easier to kiss her. She took her blouse off herself when he got his hands entangled in the creases of the fabric, concentrating next on unbuttoning his shirt and stopping him when he tried to take it off. "Please keep it on, I quite like it”, she explained while slipping her hands under it and over his shoulders, and got right back to kissing him eagerly.</p><p>By then his cock was growing hard, trapped painfully inside his pants, and when she crossed her legs around his thighs the consequent friction made him shudder. "Should we… go to bed?" he’d asked, and he was still unsure if he just had suggested it only to finally take his pants off. She looked at him and nodded, then gave him a peck on his lips just after having whispered “Yes”. She agreed. Twice. That wasn’t taking advantage.</p><p>He recalled he’d helped her slide off the table and she’d taken her blouse and followed him, and he hoped she hadn’t noticed that, while on the stairs, he couldn’t help putting a hand in his pants to adjust his already painfully hard cock. Once in his bedroom she – <em>deliberately</em>, he stressed - took off her jeans and lounged on the bed, cheekily smiling at him, and at that point, even if it hadn't been his plan to get this far, she was tempting enough for him to take off his shirt and trousers and join her on his own bed, and <em>god Beth, you’re gorgeous</em>. She smiled in response, and he leant over her and kissed her again. They kept kissing for a while, rubbing one on another, hands grasping and legs intertwined, with him shuddering every time his crotch got some friction from the ongoing action. She helped him to unhook her bra and he wished he could just remove his pants as well without looking rushed. He warily asked her– well, he can’t recall the exact language he used, but she didn’t even let him finish, “Oh yes James” she answered, lowering one hand to take off her panties.  She then curled up, almost hiding her groin with her crouched thigh, but once he was naked as well – and freed from his pants at last - she parted her legs allowing him to settle between them.</p><p>She was hot and wet in arousal, and his cock easily glided in when James pushed his hips forward against her. Slowly, to savour all the feelings that were pervading him, warm shivers that made him unconsciously hold his breath until he got deep inside her, letting out a chocked groan before starting to breathe again. She threw her head back, uncovering her neck, but he was struggling so hard to keep his control that he missed the chance to run his mouth from her collarbone up until that spot behind the ear, the one that he’d just discovered made her twitch when he kissed it. He waited for her to relax, letting her grasp to his buttocks to adjust herself around him, finding the right angle and tugging him deeper.</p><p>After a few tries he was able to balance mostly on one arm so as to have the other free to caress her or hold her close while moving in slow, deep thrusts, making her close her eyes with every moan she made. She kept her arms around his neck, tucking the falling strands of hair behind his ears, or keeping them up among her fingers, looking at him in the eyes when she wasn’t arching her head back in what he assumed was pleasure. And every time he couldn’t stand her trustful, abandoned gaze he just leaned forward and kissed her. ‘This is good,’ he thought, again and again, and maybe he also let it slip out loud accidentally, in the heat of things; 'yes,' she said, perhaps not in answer to his remark but still, she kept saying ‘yes’ and ‘James’ and fragments of words he couldn’t catch, but she never stopped him, nor whined, nor anything else to make him think she wasn't enjoying it. And, even upon closer look, James was still convinced that she had liked it.</p><p>He recalled having broken his pace when he’d felt her tensing up, but she placed one hand on his lower back and urged him on."Please keep going," she begged and he resumed his steady rhythm, concentrating on checking her reactions. Her breath got increasingly shallow and she kept her eyes closed longer, he noticed, until she arched her back and sighed, her shuddering legs pushing him away, and he rolled on his side to give her space. Still, he couldn't stop staring at her, contemplating her figure and how the dim light drew shadows on her skin.</p><p>She soon turned back towards him, and with hooded eyes and a softer voice whispered, "Come back here." She grabbed his hand and moved it to her hip, then placed her hand on his side to pull him between her legs. He easily slid inside her again and oh, the softness, the smoothness, the total warmness in their embrace; he wouldn't move at all if it weren't for the urge to start thrusting again. He moved with a few deep strokes that grew with increasing frequency, and it was so good to feel her kept caressing him the whole time, kissing the spots she was able to reach while lying under him, whispering and moaning until he came; only a glimmer of awareness made him realize that he ought to pull out. It met with questionable success, and a moment later he lost all control and almost crashed upon her entirely, his head resting on her bent arm, lulled in a weary contentment and still oblivious to the consequences of what had just happened.</p><p>Once he got his consciousness back he couldn’t help but notice that, indeed, they were both rather messy. ‘I’d better wash up now,’ she said, entirely rightly, but after she got back from the bathroom she quickly fell asleep, or at least pretended to, and that meant they had no chance to talk about any of it. Not that he was complaining about the missed chance, frankly, because he was pretty sure he would had said something wrong – he still felt he had done something wrong later, considering the way she’d left his place. But apart from what happened the morning after, every thing led to the conclusion that he didn’t take advantage of her at all, as it frankly looks like she’d wanted it as much as he did. And that, apart from relieving him from all the harassment accusations he was anticipating, made him reconsider that he unconsciously wanted her more than he had assumed – <em>exactly what we were trying to avoid, right May?</em> but his own reprimanding tone has already mellowed out in an almost pleased acceptation.</p><p>He deliberately avoided having lunch at their usual place in case Beth was there as well, leaving it all for the evening; he put together something from his fridge to eat before driving to the other side of the city to discuss the feasibility of his last idea for a show. At the end of the meeting he drove back home, and tried to mentally prepare to see her at the pub.</p><p>He felt compelled to text Hammond to inform him of his plans for the night, at least to pin the blame on him and his suggestions if everything was going to end badly.</p><p>‘I'm seeing Beth tonight.’</p><p>‘Great. Just don't be a moron, don’t make her run away. And get condoms this time.’</p><p>Oh. No, he wouldn’t. Not in advance, at least. As much as he was interested in her, that wasn’t his goal for that night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James did his best to get to the pub earlier than the last time in order to choose a table out of the way. He asked for his beer and waited, still unsure about whether that was going. He felt slightly less brave than he’d been in the morning when he’d resolved to take action, afraid once again of having gotten everything wrong. Finally, he saw Beth coming in and looking around, then shyly waving once she spotted him. She gestured to him she’s getting a beer before sitting and he nodded in response. <em>Well, here we are.</em></p><p>“Hey, nice to see you” she said as she sat down in front of him.</p><p>“Same. Is it the red I suggested to you last time?” he asked, pointing at her beer with the aim of sounding casual, but he instantly regretted having made a reference to that night’s facts – <em>awful move May</em>, he thought.</p><p>“Yes, perhaps it’s a bit too strong for me but tastes good”, she answered, and he couldn’t decide if she was just as awkward as him in avoiding the burning issue or she was deliberately trying to get to the point and tell him it had been just a drunk shag. The doubt left him unable to say anything to carry on the conversation, so he just barely raised his glass towards her; she matched his move and they took a sip almost simultaneously. Glasses down, she looked straight at him and started, “So, thank you so much for tonight’s invitation. Honestly, I had reluctantly accepted it was reasonable that you didn't want to see me again, after last night…” she paused for a moment, and he tensed up foreseeing what she was aiming at.</p><p>“And, about what happened, I see it may sound a futile thing to say now but I wasn’t prepared for that. Not in my plans, frankly. It was rushed and messy,” she continues, “And not using a condom was a total mistake, I’m not on birth control and I should know the risks, and that’s why I freaked out – uselessly, in the end. I owe you apologies for both the morning-after interrogation and the brisk getaway. I’m deeply sorry for that.” </p><p>“Oh, well, it’s- it was unexpected for me as well, to be honest”, he shyly admitted, then worriedly raised an eyebrow. “Is… everything all right about that, I mean, I may have been too impulsive-“</p><p>She cut him off: “It’s alright, it takes two for that kind of things. And, well, the point is that, despite everything I’ve said, it was surprisingly... pleasant, James. It wasn't bad at all for being rushed.” She smiled at him, and it took him a couple of seconds to process this last statement. He realised just in time he couldn’t just stare blankly at her, so he emitted a sound just to show he was alive: "Oh." And then he managed a little more. “I feared you were going to... complain?”</p><p>“For what? I can’t see anything to complain about. It was… well, good, messy but good,” she concluded, taking a sip from her pint while looking straight at him. Meanwhile, he realized that in the lapse of her last statements she'd unknowingly cleared up the largest fraction of his doubts about the whole thing: sodding extortion threats, unexplained getaways, drunken mistakes and so on, and he was left with only the unsolved question of whether to call it all off in the name of his unpreparedness or give it a try and hope for the best.</p><p>“Well, yes. It was. It felt…” he discarded a full list of adjectives he felt were too revealing and went the easy way: “Well, good”, but couldn’t help giggling at his own pathetic wording.</p><p>“Oh don’t laugh, please, I really enjoyed it, and also the pub, and the times we’ve had lunch together… I wasn’t planning this but, considering all that happened, I guess I wouldn't mind going on an actual date with you, if you'd fancy.” She stared at him with shiny black eyes, her chin resting on gripped hands, waiting, when a ringtone startled them both. "Oh sorry, it's mine, I hoped this wouldn't happened... Just give me a minute please, I really have to take this one - it’s from the hospital," she justified while retrieving her phone from the depths of her bag. She stood up and moved to a quiet corner for a brief conversation he couldn’t hear from his seat.</p><p>He blessed that call for giving him the time he needed to process the whole thing. Had he just been asked out? On an <em>actual</em> date, it seemed, not the ‘unplanned shagging disguised as a pub night’ he’d accidentally set up last time, for which he understood her clarification. An actual date, meaning that he’d have had to be willing to give it a chance and see where it was going, regardless of all his ongoing projects and commitments he was clinging to. An actual date, hopefully the first of a series - <em>oh god did I just say ‘hopefully’?</em></p><p>She hung up and came back to their table, but without sitting down she explained, "Ok, so I really don't know what's wrong with the Londoners' arteries these days, fifth bleeding in three days, I knew I'd be on call tonight but, I mean, I don't get called often, and didn't want to lose this chance to see you, but I'm afraid I really must go, just got called for an emergency… sorry."</p><p>"Oh, that’s a shame, I mean, no, ok, got it, I'm sorry for the poor chap... Need a lift?”</p><p>"That would be perfect, thanks. I’ll make a couple of calls meanwhile, ok?" she said, and he nodded in agreement. He paid the bill and she followed him to the car, got in and told him the hospital's address all without putting down her phone. He concentrated on driving her to the hospital, almost feeling his part of responsibility in the patient's survival chances, even if underneath he was already itching for their next encounter- no, date, <em>actual date</em>, as she’d said.</p><p>Because that would have meant taking the big step out of his recently recovered comfort zone, filled with engagements and projects and stuff to prevent misery and loneliness from flooding it. With questionable results, evidently. And if she’d been able to find a crack in his well-arranged shelter and weasel her way in, well, maybe it was worth giving it a chance. So yes, he’d fancy, he decided. But it felt rude to tell her now, while she was engaged into an argument on clinical issues he barely understood. He couldn’t risk interfering with a chap’s life-saving procedure to confess he was willing to see her again – <em>on an actual date</em>.</p><p>She finally hung up but she was only able to say, “Gosh I’m so sorry for this inconvenience, should have planned things differently, bet you’re gonna ditch me after tonig- oh, gosh. Again, sorry” and picked up the incoming call that interrupted her apologies, arguing at the phone until they were almost at destination. Still discussing, she pointed at a gate in front of them, "Ok, just pull over that entrance down there, please," and then, to her phone, "Getting inside, see you there," before hanging up while he stopped the car. She opened the door and turned to him saying "Again I’m so sorry but I really gotta go, thank you so much for the lift, have a good night. And about that date... please let me know whatever you'll decide, but I’d really love to see you again."</p><p>He nodded and answered without any hesitation."So do I. I’ll find a day ok? I’ll text you.” It made her beam joyfully and say, “Oh great, that’s perfect,” and then, apologetically, “Well I’d better go, so… good night, see you soon,” while getting out of the car.</p><p>“Good night, take care,” he answered. She headed to the hospital entrance waving in his direction before stepping inside and he flashed the headlights back in response. Once again, she’s gone and it felt like there should have been a kiss, he realised while letting himself relax against the car seat. <em>Well, third time lucky, right?</em> He pulled out his mobile and texts Hammond, ‘You were wrong, that wasn’t a date. Next one will be though’, then put the car in gear and drove home.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once at home, he took his phone out of his pocket, to find Hammond’s reply:</p>
<p>‘‘Next one' as in 'I did brilliantly and she wants to see me again' or as in 'I screwed it up and I'm hoping in another chance'?'</p>
<p>'Something like the first option’</p>
<p>'So you haven't screwed anything …but her?’</p>
<p>'Sod off. No, she's been called back at the hospital for an emergency, guess she's still there’</p>
<p>'Are you sure she didn't fake it just to get away from you?’</p>
<p>That was a chance James hadn’t evaluated, and he stared at his mobile a bit too long to pretend he wasn’t bothered. <em>No no no, no. Let’s stop with these conspiratorial theories, she’s not a spy, she’s quite cute, she’s into me – she asked me out!</em></p>
<p>'Funny. Goodnight Hammond’</p>
<p>'Goodnight, good luck for your date.’</p>
<p>It was too early to go to bed, also he wouldn’t probably sleep as he was still processing what had just happened; he took from his fridge something as similar as possible at the beer he hadn’t had the chance to drink, then turned the telly on and slouched on the sofa.</p>
<p>He wasn’t really following whatever was going on on the screen, still brooding on the outcome of their last brief encounter – quite relevant for having been that brief. Rationally, he knew he shouldn’t be totally proud of having fallen so quickly into accepting her not so subtle request for a date: it was another significant step on the ‘you quite like her and you don’t want to admit it’ scale, <em>and it’s not that I don’t want to admit it, I’m just worried about the implications</em>, nevertheless he understood that he should have to make a choice after what had happened between them, and in the end he was glad Beth hadn’t dismissed it as a drunken mistake.</p>
<p>He began thinking about the promised date, trying to find a suitable time and place. He checked his calendar but it didn’t offer many possibilities: <em>not tomorrow,</em> he had already planned a long ride on his motorbike as he used to do on Saturdays, but mostly he felt it would have been too soon. Same for the Sunday: lunch at his sister’s and still too soon. <em>Sunday night? What for?</em> Taking her out for dinner? They’ve been having lunch practically together for months, it didn’t feel distinguished enough – not to talk about the pub and all the implications it might have, considering what had happened until then, besides being quite inelegant. <em>Does it need to be somewhere elegant? Oh hell I so hate this…</em></p>
<p>He tried to consider the cinema, or a club, but in the end he just wanted to find a nice place to talk with her, so both places didn’t seem fit for his purpose. He recalled a cosy tearoom on the coast that would have made the perfect place, but it was quite far from London so probably too demanding for a first date, and he’d been there with Sarah first, so no. James kept thinking of places, and dismissing them after a sip of his beer, until his excitement slowly faded and he fell asleep on the sofa, having only set the right day to be on Saturday – giving up his usual ride, and that was definitely something for his standards.</p>
<p>The morning after, waking up in his bed where he’d moved staggering at some time in the night, it took James a few tries to reach and grab his phone on the nightstand without uncovering himself. Because of a weird dream he’d just had, he woke up thinking about Beth so he thought it would be nice to text her firstly:</p>
<p>‘Good morning, hope everything went right last night, have a nice weekend’,</p>
<p>then he stretched, got up and went to the lavatory. Once ready, he moved downstairs taking the mobile with him and checked it while coming down the steps only to find that she hadn’t text back. <em>Okay, May, that was too soon. You’re terrible at this.</em></p>
<p>He checked it again after having had breakfast, before going outside and, one last time but still in vain, before starting to methodically put on all his gear; he took his motorbike out of the garage and put his helmet on, heading towards the Devon. He rode until he had to stop for fuel, realising it was almost too late for lunch. While fumbling in his backpack to take out the wallet, he also grabbed his phone and checked it again, this time finding the text from Beth he had almost forgotten about:</p>
<p>‘G’morning, just woke up, got home at two. Have a nice one you too, xoxo’.</p>
<p><em>Great I’ve been a twat as usual, </em>he didn’t even consider she might have gone to bed way later than him, but then he looked at that xoxo and cracked a smile - <em>for the love of God, May, what have you turned into? </em>That was the kind of things James was worried about: he’d practically came to terms with his infatuation, he just didn’t want it to affect the equilibrium he’d managed to achieve until that day, made of carefully balanced professional duties, necessary activities and a generous amount of time for himself.</p>
<p>Beth was definitely doing something to him – and that was the good part, he wouldn’t have lied to himself pretending he wasn’t waiting for a chance to sleep with her again - but she was also making him do something, in the terms of contemplating the chance to give up his almost comfortable loneliness  - and wrecking his brain about it, also. <em>Probably overthinking it all as usual, since technically we haven’t been on a single date yet. </em></p>
<p>And sometimes he feared he’d probably gone already too far in accepting to date her as well, <em>but god she’s cute</em>, so, since Hammond’s ‘don’t hurt her’ rule still applied, he reckoned he’d better have had some kind of talk about his busy agenda, as soon as possible if things would have taken a certain turn.</p>
<p>Because he wasn’t sure he would have been able to stand the effects of someone else, someone potentially close, on his almost perfect organisation, allowing his behaviour to be influenced by someone else’s acts, whether it was a harmless giggle that slipped out at her words or the chance he’d have to reschedule his plans – or worse cancel them - to meet that someone’s needs. He probably wasn’t made for human interactions,  or grown too old for them, he kept preferring things over people, and despite that awareness he then recalled he’d already decided to give up his next bike ride to have a chance to go out with her, and groaned in dismay.</p>
<p>Feeling a bit inadequate, or probably it was just hunger, James decided it was better to wait until Monday to make his next move, nevertheless he kept checking his mobile once in a while for the whole weekend, not even sure of what kind of message he was waiting for. At least he’d managed to come up with a suitable idea for their date from absent-mindedly checking the magazines on sale while eating the sandwich he’d bought at the fuel station.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finally, on Monday at lunch time, he walked into the usual coffee place ready to tell Beth his plan, but to his disappointment he didn’t find her there. He waited as long as possible nursing his coffee, in vain, so he resigned to go back to his office. <em>Does this call for a text?</em>, he dreaded it would look too clingy, but since he’d had what he thought was a pretty good idea for their date, he didn’t want to risk for it to fall through because he’d resolve too late for her to organize her schedule.</p><p>He recalled he’d promised her a text about the date and felt a bit encouraged by that thought, so once he got back at his desk he postponed his tasks for a couple of minutes to concentrate on writing a suitable message.</p><p>‘Hello, I was hoping to see you at lunch, just wanted to know if you’re free this Saturday, I’ve got an idea for that date’</p><p>He read it again before hitting ‘send’: <em>mh, a bit too desperate</em>, so he deleted the ‘I was hoping to see you at lunch’ part and then sent it. To his surprise, Beth’s reply came quickly and left him triumphantly pleased.</p><p>‘Hi, ok for Saturday, looking forward to, xoxo’.</p><p>James’s mobile buzzed again soon after:</p><p>‘I’m in Birmingham for a training course btw, I’m back on Thursday, see you at lunch?’</p><p><em>‘Sure’. No, wait, too enthusiastic. ‘I’ll do my best to be there’,</em> <em>not bad, maybe a bit too much. And… ‘Bye’? ‘See you’?</em> As much as he enjoyed reading it in Beth’s texts, ‘xoxo’ wasn’t definitely his stuff, so no. <em>‘Take care’, yes perfect.</em></p><p>‘I’ll do my best to be there. Take care’.</p><p>Thursday arrived, together with a rainfall that made James reconsider if his choice of going to a botanic garden was in fact an awful one and, together with the lack of a backup idea, a sign from above that he wasn’t cut out for that kind of things.</p><p>He wasn’t expecting to see Beth already sitting at what had become their favourite table, when he got into the café: she waved at him smiling and took her bag off the chair in front of her for him to sit. He smiled at her, still heading to the counter, then he changed his mind and walked back to leave his soaked jacket on the chair, noticing that she has almost finished her lunch.</p><p>“Hi, welcome back, was everything ok in Birmingham?”</p><p>“Hello, yes, thanks for asking. What about you, how are you?”</p><p>“I’m fine, thank you. I’m taking something to eat, please wait for me before leaving, I have something to tell you.”</p><p>“Sure, that’s the reason I’ve came here, despite the rain.”, and she winked at him.</p><p>He’d already turned away again, to get to the counter, and probably it was a good thing so Beth didn’t see him slightly blushing because of her words, both juvenile and embarrassing, try to be tougher May, everyone can see you’re terrible at this. It never dawned on him before, but probably all the usual customers there might have realised they're up to something by now; he thought about it while waiting in the queue and decided he didn't care in the end.</p><p>There was no reason for beating around the bush, it was way too obvious what they were expecting from each other and he should only be able to tell her his plan, hoping for the best: that she hadn’t changed her mind meanwhile, that she didn’t think his choice for a first, <em>actual</em> date was a lame one indeed – <em>too late to change your mind May, you don’t have a backup plan</em>, that she wasn’t an undercover agent, an alien or any other being in disguise, or whatever foolish reason there could have been to not taking her out, because he was quite into her, as the brief exchange they’d just had had promptly reminded him, <em>oh come on May, you’re still going to ask her out nevertheless, be brave – and don’t mess it up.</em></p><p>“You got here early or am I later than usual?”, he asked while sitting down.</p><p>“It’s me, the lovely grandma we were working on never stopped talking, and our anaesthesiologist has been extremely professional in resisting from turning the minimal sedation into a general anaesthesia just for our ears’ sake. But everybody was left exhausted, and I popped out as soon as possible to get here, rain or not.”</p><p>“Yeah, wasn’t expecting that much… I’m a bit damp.”</p><p>“Got a full shower on Monday night in Birmingham, thankfully the hotel was close…”</p><p>They chatted as they usually did, but James noticed how she kept fidgeting with the little things left on her tray, looking probably more anxious than him in the end, <em>so you’ve tried to fool me into believing you know what you’re doing, with that wink, mh?</em> That detail comforted him enough to feel in charge, for once, so he decided it was the right time to ask her:</p><p>“By the way, I really hope weather will get better since I’d like to take you out to Kew Gardens on Saturday, there’s also an exhibition of succulents ongoing so I thought you may like it, what do you think about it?”</p><p>Beth brightened up at his words, her jaw dropped and she looked at James with that bright gaze he’d already seen twice – and her eyes did something to him, again, and it was a good thing there was a table between them and a full cafeteria all around or he’d probably just kissed her on the spot. Almost stuttering in awe, she explained:</p><p>“It’s… it’s a lovely idea, I’ve always told myself I should go and see them but never did… so yes, let’s hope it’s not going to rain…”</p><p>“I have a backup plan, just in case.” <em>No, I don’t have one, of course I don’t, but I’ll probably build a whole greenhouse in two days if you keep looking at me like that, Beth.</em></p><p>“I really hope it won’t be needed. Have I ever told you how much I’d love to visit the gardens, by chance?” she asked sceptically, probably as surprised as James himself by how spot-on his choice was.</p><p>“No, or I honestly can’t remember”, and to confess her he’d stole the idea from a travel magazine in a petrol station seemed a bit too frank – but, speaking of signs from above, that was certainly a positive one.</p><p>“Funny, isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to get there, I just thought that it was a bit… glum, to get there alone… Are you sure you won’t get bored? I mean, I know I’m going to love it, but you, well, it’s plants…”</p><p>“No problem, there’s a lot to see anyway.” <em>There’s you, primarily. </em>“And I don’t mind plants and flowers, don’t think I’m into motorbikes only.”</p><p>“Well I’m looking forward to Saturday then! I have to get back to the hospital for some paperwork, but you’ve made my day James.”</p><p>“Great, so I’m taking it as a yes, right?”</p><p>“Yes, with great pleasure James.”</p><p>“Good. I could pick you up at around 9:30 if it suits you, I just need your address…”</p><p>“Oh, ok. Well, there’s a cosy bakery next to the Sainsbury’s in Balham, we can meet there, I’ll buy you a coffee ok?”, she said while putting on her coat.</p><p>“Ok, Sainsbury’s in Balham, got it.” <em>That’s not your address, but ok.</em></p><p>She grabbed her tray and placed it in the racks, then got back to take her bag. “So, see you on Saturday okay?”</p><p>“Sure. Working the afternoon shift tomorrow?” <em>What are you, May, a stalker?</em> but she didn’t seem worried by his deduction, instead she smiled almost pleased.</p><p>“Yes, fortunately, you know how much I love to sleep in the morning.” James understood that he should know that because she’d often told him about not being an early bird, but nevertheless the first thing that came to his mind was his puzzled realisation of her sleeping in his bed, that morning after. And probably it came to her mind as well, as he didn’t have a chance to reply because she abruptly cut it off, flushing red in what James thought be candid embarrassment: “Ok I’m going now, see you, bye” and walked away. James followed her with his eyes, still baffled by her move, and through the café windows he saw her facepalming and shaking her head;<em> well, at least I’m not the only awkward one here</em>, and that thought did his heart good. <em>Oh god, I’m a softie.</em></p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James was standing in front of his wide-open wardrobe, wondering what he was supposed to wear and, underneath the frivolous fashion issue, what he was supposed to do: <em>here we are again, I'm terrible at this.</em> Should he have rung up Hammond for help? <em>No, it's ages he's out of the dating pool, luckily for him</em>, and he probably wouldn't have said anything different than 'Don't chicken out May, wear whatever you want that doesn't look recovered from a pile of trash and try to not be late – and don’t hurt her’, which were some good pieces of suggestion in the end. <em>Good guy Richard</em>, and he felt like he owed him a text anyway:</p><p>‘I’m taking Beth out today, wish me luck’</p><p><em>And some subtlety, too</em>, because it had become pretty clear he was quite into her and any potential change of heart wouldn’t be taken easily at this point<em>. Stop worrying, she’s the one who asked you out</em>, James tried to cheer up himself, but an indiscreet shoulder devil pointed out that, that considered, a failure would have been up to him only. Thankfully, his mobile buzzed, distracting him from the harmful stream of thought:</p><p>‘You’ll make a good job of it. Get condoms.’</p><p>Should he? In all fairness, he would, but he’d reckoned it would have been too… soon? Optimistic? Thirsty? <em>You don’t have to tell her you’ve got them, unless… unless you’re particularly lucky May.</em> In the end he chose to go and buy them, as the responsible adult he was – at least this time – and for good measure, also in consideration of their long shelf life.</p><p>He supposed showing up with his Ferrari would have been too much for a first date, so he’d chosen a less flashy car, something that would have gone almost unnoticed in the supermarket’s park; James didn’t have to wait a lot as Beth soon appeared walking from a side street, in a green knee length dress and a cardigan; it took a split second to recognise her, as he was used to see her in jeans or trousers but mainly with her hair tied, never having realized the actual length until that moment. And he suddenly knew he wanted to run his fingers through her long dark hair, and probably his nose too.</p><p>“Good morning James, fancy a coffee or something?” she offered, and James couldn’t help but accepting her invitation, “Good morning Beth, a coffee would be nice, thank you.”</p><p>“Let’s go then, there’s this place I love and I’ll try to persuade you to also have a pastry, they’re really good.”</p><p>James had to admit the small chocolate éclair he’d allowed himself was excellent, and the coffee was good too; but, apart from that, he was a bit worried about the way things were going on, as conversation wasn’t running as smooth as usual between them, and Beth seemed slightly uncomfortable and a bit too anxious, almost unable to look at him in the eyes.</p><p>Her discomfort emerged clearly after a few minutes they’d got into the car:</p><p> “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be boring you with gory stories from work, but I’m a bit rusty at this dating thing, and a bit nervous too… please be patient with me”</p><p>“No problem, don’t ever think about it, I’m terrible at this as well – not that you’re terrible, I mean, I… Ok, I’m sorry, I’m ruining it all, can we just play pretend it’s just an extended lunch break?”</p><p>“Mh, I’ll try to”, but she didn’t manage to talk much more until he finally parked next to the garden’s entrance.</p><p>Once inside the gardens Beth seemed to relax; she kept looking around and then at James, studiously, like he was an unusual specimen of oak or something similar. They walked side by side, with James trying his best to keep the conversation as casual as possible while, as Beth had predicted, it was mostly about plants; after almost an hour of strolling around and visiting a couple of pavilions, Beth spotted a huge bush full of flowers at a short distance, whose scent was so intense to reach the trail they were on, and she walked on the grass towards it. James followed her, through the intense perfume in the air, stopping and staring at her while she sauntered all around it.</p><p>She came back next to him, enraptured, so attractive to James’s eyes: “Isn’t it gorgeous? It’s probably a bit too early for this to blossom, blame the global warming, but still, look at this!”</p><p>He nodded and slightly pulled down a branch towards her, to let her smell the large blossoming; when she stuck her nose in one of the flowers he couldn’t resist the chance of pulling a little prank, thus he did let go the branch so that the flower smacked in her nose.</p><p>“Ouch!”, she squealed, “You’ve pollinated me!”, but she was laughing at his prank anyway, under the sprinkle of yellow powder on her face.</p><p>James, on the contrary, got startled by her choice of words and his mind promptly provided him all the related evidences from their night together – and the possible consequences of it, freezing for a split second before bursting out in an almost panic-induced blabbering:</p><p>“Oh, sorry! I’ve been a twat, I’m so sorry, are you ok? Did it hurt you?”</p><p>“No, no problem, thank god I’m not allergic or anything”, she answered, cleaning her face with a tissue.</p><p><em>Oh god what if she’d been allergic? You’re a bloody moron May, </em>and she probably didn’t mean to sound so stern, but he kept his gaze low just like he was being scolded – reasonably. And she kept going:</p><p>“And, if you still worried about what happened, no, I’m not pregnant, I was referring to the flowers, sorry for the questionable wording.” <em>God, she knows. </em>James was even more embarrassed, both for what now seemed him a childish move and a chance to ruin it all, not knowing what to do next.</p><p>“Pulling pranks on a lady: you’d better apologise soon, profusely” she mockingly reprimanded him, unable to hide her entertained smile under the pretentiously offended stance. Hearing a hint of a giggle in her words, he breathed the faintest sigh of relief and turned back to look at her, to find her staring at him, indulgent and thankfully not as annoyed as he dreaded.</p><p>“You still have pollen on your cheek, milady” he noticed, instinctively raising his hand to rub it off.  He kept his fingers up there, just shifting them under her chin, and raised her head towards him.</p><p>Beth took a step to get closer, standing right in front of him, “James…” she whispered, before leaning in angling his head, and James matched her moves to finally kiss her again. She clenched the sides of his jacket and stood on her tiptoes to better reach his mouth, and James placed one hand on her nape and the other right under her shoulder blade, to keep her close and kiss her like ideally that till dusk, at least, if ‘forever’ might have sounded a little too ambitious.</p><p>They briefly broke away, to breath, and she checked nobody was around, then got back to kiss him, this time cupping his face; James realised he could instantly provide enough butterflies to fill the whole garden according to the turmoil he felt in his stomach, and in a fit of enthusiasm he broke away and let a few words slip out, “God Beth, I so wanted to kiss you again…”, overwhelmed by how tenderly he felt Beth was touching him. “Oh well, that’s… interesting”, she said, almost under her breath, “because, well, I’ve wanted it too, James” then she giggled, placing her forehead on his collarbone, before kissing him again.</p><p>They kept walking side by side along the gardens’ paths, but now they were standing closer, and sometimes she gently leant her head against his arm, and James tried to not be too enthusiastic about the botanical finds he was spotting out of the traced paths, worried to look more interested in the sweet snogs they have each time they’re conveniently away from the crowd than in the plants themselves.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please succulent enthusiasts forgive me</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had lunch at the gardens’ restaurant he wisely got a reservation at, and he couldn’t realise if there were children running around or the food was cold, since he was practically lost in her eyes; it was the umpteenth time they were having lunch together, but that time it felt a bit different to James’s perception, yet as easy as usual. He refused to share the bill, waited for her to come back from the toilette and together they walked outside the restaurant, to carry on their tour of the gardens’ attractions.</p><p>James was deeply happy with how smoothly the things were going, <em>surprisingly smoothly, </em>he’d evaluated in the few minutes he was alone, so smoothly that he reckoned accepting Beth’s invitation despite his plans to avoid any kind of relationship was perchance one of his best decisions ever. <em>Suspiciously smoothly,</em> so he set up a quick test to be sure he hadn’t been dreaming from the larger part of the morning, and that their almost standard lunch hadn’t affected the progresses he’d made before:</p><p>“So, want to get a closer look at the rhododendrons over there?”</p><p>She smiled cheekily, and he had the proof she’d understood his intentions as they kissed again as soon as they walked away from the other visitors around, to his delighted satisfaction.</p><p>Once they’ve reached the pavilion where the succulent exhibition was set, Beth apologised in advance:</p><p>“I’m a bit of a maniac about these, so it’s going to take me a while to see everything here, just tell me if you’ll get bored ok?”</p><p>“No problem, take your time, I’ll have a look around ok?”</p><p>“Perfect.”</p><p>He started strolling around the stalls, taking a look here and there according to his interest, whether it got caught by particularly huge specimens, colourful flowers or minuscule pots containing what resembled a stone. He checked around for her every now and then, finding her occupied in reading the label on one of the pots, inspecting the soil under a huge cactus or meticulously examining the tables cramped with mixed blossoming cactuses.</p><p>At one point he saw her looking around for him, waving and calling him to the stand she was checking out:</p><p>"Look, this is the succulent for me!", she said once he got there, pointing at a little plant that wasn't looking particularly interesting to James’s lay eye.</p><p>"You have one of these in your collection?"</p><p>"No, it's just that it's called like me, Bethany is my full name - but please keep calling me Beth ok?"</p><p>"As you wish, Beth. Are you going to buy it?"</p><p>"Well, no, it's just a particular cultivar of a pretty common genus, I already have something similar, and it takes ages to blossom."</p><p>"Is it hard to grow?"</p><p>"No, it's a <em>Sempervivum</em>, they literally live forever"</p><p>"What if I buy one for me?"</p><p>"Why? It’s not a particularly interesting one."</p><p>"Because this one is called like you." <em>Ouch, I’ve said it.</em></p><p>James realised a split second too late that his idea might have sounded both cheeky and gross, but it’d just slipped out through the well-mannered filter he’d set up to contain his mood turned almost enthusiastic. He recalled that just a few days before he feared for his safety contemplating the chance it was all a scam against him, but then Beth had asked him out, and now she was there with him, and they kissed and everything after and it was a while he hadn’t felt as content as that. So content to consider the unlikely but still dreadful chance that everything would have ended as soon as they’d walked outside the garden's gate, like in a broken spell.</p><p>Well, it would surely do end, to a certain extent, since there was London outside, and its traffic and offices and work, and a suitcase to pack to go filming in the North next week - and he still didn't know how to tell her. Beth hadn’t told him about her training course, but this felt different to James. First, they hadn’t been on an <em>actual</em> date yet, and second because, he considered, he didn't want to accidentally put any kind of pressure on her, but at the same time he didn't want the hoped further developments - possibly including her lying naked under him, her hair untied this time - to look like his only goal and then say ‘bye I'm leaving’. Because okay, he was trying to be a gentleman setting up a pleasant date, and yes, there was still some talking to do, but nevertheless he was keeping his finger crossed, and also got condoms.</p><p><em>Probably in vain, </em>reconsidering his last daft statement and how Beth was looking at him frankly surprised, probably a bit scared too, "Oh, James, that's a bit silly...”, but she blushed nevertheless, “I'll suggest you a better one if you really want to get a cactus, and you can call it Beth, if you fancy", she proposed, still bewildered.</p><p>"Ok. You're the expert here, I'll trust your choice." <em>And I’d better shut up and stop acting like a total moron – oh the things you make me do, Beth,</em> and she nodded and smiled at him.</p><p>"Let's see what they have ok?”</p><p>By the end of their tour, James had bought Beth, a ball-shaped thorny cactus whose scientific name had sounded so difficult he didn’t even try to learn it, that was supposed to bloom with gorgeous flowers soon according to what Beth said, and Beth had bought a brain cactus, expressing her hopes to not kill it like it happened with the previous one she had, “Thankfully it was a plant and not a patient”.</p><p>While they were walking back to the car, he decided it was a good time to deal with what it felt like a burning issue to his conscience:</p><p>"Er, it doesn’t need to get watered often, right?”</p><p>“No, you have to wait for the soil to get dry before watering it.”</p><p>"Great, 'cause I'm leaving for a few days... filming, you know.” <em>James May, Loser of Chances: that’s an appropriate title, Captain Slow my arse</em>, he thought during the awkward silence that rapidly grew between them.</p><p>"Oh, well...", she answered, not without a hint of disappointment, “It’s going to survive, I guess… you can bring it to me if it looks in a bad shape once you’re back.”</p><p>“I sure will”, it was the only thing that came to his mind, the only appropriate one at least, among the pile of swear words he was reserving to himself because of his reckless move. They got into the car and he tried to save it offering:</p><p>“So, fancy a pint or something?”</p><p>“Mh, no, thanks. Could you just… bring me back home?”</p><p>“Sure”, and he understood her request as the final curtain on their date, if not on their potential relationship, <em>and it’s not the gardens’ gates’ fault, it’s you, imbecile.</em></p><p>“It’s been a lovely day James”, <em>I feel this calls for a ‘but’, right?,</em> he thought in response, dreading for her next words, but she then continued:</p><p>“And, in addition to the choice of the Gardens, I’ve so liked what we’ve been doing…”, and he was so surprised there wasn’t a ‘but’ that he didn’t resist pointing out his satisfaction:</p><p>“Me too, and, please don’t get this wrong, more than I thought”</p><p>Beth turned at him, a quizzical frown on her face, but she didn’t investigate further nor kept going with her train of thoughts, so he tried to save it with a generic apology, for whatever had gone wrong in what he thought was a sincere expression of appreciation:</p><p>“Sorry, it came out wrong.”</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>They didn’t talk much more during the ride home, just a couple of comments about the plants and the food, something terribly close to the small talks he’d always been happy to avoid when chatting with her. <em>Something has changed, and it’s my fault.</em> They weren’t talking, and what disheartened James was that it was perhaps for the best. He probably wouldn’t have to feel that guilty, but still he did, <em>I’m terrible at this</em>, almost giving up hope of her being just bored, tired or as awkward as him.</p><p>Once close to the place where they’ve met in the morning, he asked her if he should leave her just there at the Sainsbury’s, and she replied:</p><p>“That’s better, I live in a one-way street, you’ll avoid driving all around the block if you stop there.”</p><p>“I see.” <em>Thanks for the thought, and congratulations on how you’ve managed to avoid revealing your address.</em></p><p>“Also, I wouldn’t mind you coming over, and there’s no way to find a spot in front of my place, so…”</p><p>“Oh”, <em>May, are we being particularly lucky?</em>, “Sure... I’d be happy to”</p><p>They still weren’t talking while walking to Beth’s home, but there was a different kind of silence between them, since James was so worried to ruin it all again than preferred to just shut up, hoping for a short walking distance: Beth was smiling shily now, and she was still walking quite close to him, <em>and we’re going at her place, maybe I haven’t ruined this completely - until now at least, please May behave yourself.<br/></em></p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beth opened the door and led the way in, leaving her bag on the sofa and promptly unpacking the plant she’d bought, placing it on in the middle of the table.</p>
<p>“So, it’s not as fancy as yours, I’m afraid. Anyway, make yourself at home, bathroom is the door on the right, there’s beer in the fridge or I can make you a coffee or a tea, whatever you want.”</p>
<p>James heard her words but didn’t get their meaning at first, standing astonished in the tiny hallway, beholding at the sight he was offered with: the small living room, in front of him, was essentially full of plants. There were probably dozens of pots of different size, all in coordinated shades of grey, each one containing a plant, visibly healthy and verdant regardless of their size or shape. Hanging from the ceiling, placed on shelves or on the windowsills, on the floor: the room was filled with an astonishing variety of greenery, like an oasis in the middle of the city, that would have looked perfect on the pages of an interior design magazine, or a gardening one.</p>
<p>He made a few steps and he identified some of them: beside the small groups of assorted cactuses here and there, there was a huge, lush palm next to the small sofa, while strands of ivy were hanging loose from a bookshelf. There was a pot of aloe over a cabinet, next to what might have been a botanical oddity, that looked like a bunch of string of green pearls, and something that definitely resembled a fig was partially obstructing the way to what he’d learnt was the bathroom door. As far as he could see, they extended to the kitchenette as well, with strands of vines coming down the cabinets and small pots of herbs lined up on the counter.</p>
<p>“Wow, it’s… it’s almost better than the Gardens! You’ve told me about a small collection, this is… a tropical forest… it’s gorgeous.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well… I might have underestimated it when I’ve talked about it, didn’t want you to think I’m a freak, and I know they’re too many… and there’s a few in the bathroom also, don’t get scared if you’re going there.”</p>
<p>James kept looking around himself in awe, then his gaze fell over Beth again: dressed in green, her hair loose and dishevelled just so, staring at him with the blush of someone whose secret has just been uncovered on her cheek. Like he had crept up on a sylvan nymph, or Flora herself, and he was so utterly blissful to be the chosen one he really didn’t want to spoil the chance he’d been gifted with.</p>
<p>“Beth… these are beautiful, by the way… but, did you… did you only ask me to get here for a coffee? Because I really don’t want to get this wrong.”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>She stepped forwards to close the distance between them, then placed her forearms on his shoulders and gently pulled his head downwards to kiss him. And James forgot about the coffee, the plants and the suitcase, kissing her back with the zeal he couldn’t have shown when they were out in public. He considered himself allowed to mess up with her hair now, and to be as passionate as he actually was in kissing her, and she didn’t hold back either, as James felt the tip of her tongue up his neck, and one of her hands moving to his belt, to pull him and keep him close. That move didn’t go unnoticed by James’s cock, that stiffened at both the contact and the thought of what was going on and what might have been next.</p>
<p>He grabbed her more tightly, with the intent of lifting her onto the table next to her, to check if she’d still twitched if he'd kissed that spot just behind her ear, but at his attempt to pull her up she squealed:</p>
<p>“No, no, there’s a loose leg!”</p>
<p>He immediately let go his grasp on her, fearing he was hurting her or something similar, then he realised the cause of her concern, “Oh, ok”<em>, right, it’s a sensible reason, in the end, I just need to breath again,</em> “Thought I was being too… rough, or something.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, no, sorry if I’ve scared you… Told you, my place is not as fancy as yours, the table is wobbly, and by the way I’m sorry I haven’t appreciated your French wine as it deserved…” she said, while tucking James’s strands of hair behind his ear, still hugging him with one arm, and James focused on that detail to consider himself forgiven for his overreaction and still welcome around her. And on her dark eyes, staring at him with some unsual, almost polite kind of desire that made James yearning to satisfy it.</p>
<p>“No problem… whatever you’re saying Beth, sorry I didn’t pay attention, you're quite distracting”</p>
<p>“Well, my bed is sturdy though, if you’d want to…”, she offered, and he only had to choose the right words to say it, since he already knew the answer:</p>
<p>“That… would be good, honestly”,</p>
<p>“And there’s only a couple of plants in my bedroom, if you’re wondering.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I was thinking… and you’re good with plants, by the way”</p>
<p>“Can I… try to be good with you, instead?”</p>
<p>“God Beth… you are. You’re gorgeous”</p>
<p>“Oh James, don’t… I mean, I’m terrible at this but… I quite like you, that’s the point”, and started unbuttoning his shirt. She looked concentrated on undoing the top one, then went thought all the other blindly, distracted and hindered as James was teasing her with pecks on the portions of skin he managed to reach. When she got to undo the last button, she run her hands on his sides, up to his shoulder blades, and pulled him towards her, smiling triumphantly.</p>
<p>"I understand I have to keep it on, right?”, he asked, amused and pleased by the way she was looking after him; he felt deeply wanted, yet in a sweet, undemanding and straightforward way, and under these condition it was terribly easy to let himself go despite all the doubts he hadn’t entirely dealt with yet.</p>
<p>"Well, it's going to be in the way in a while, but yes please”, and got back to kiss him, tracing complicated paths on his back with her fingertips meanwhile.</p>
<p>He tried to do the same, to run his fingers on her skin, but her dress didn’t leave him much space for his tactile explorations. As she broke away to breathe, James pointed out:</p>
<p>“This is unfair, your dress is way more difficult to take off.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take it off myself, I just need a nip to the loo, please wait for me”, and winked.</p>
<p>“I sure will”</p>
<p>She left a peck on James’s lips and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself. James was left alone in the living room of the small flat: he looked for the condom he’d put in his wallet a few hours ago and moved it to his pocket, then took another contemplative look around, and concluded that yes, she might have been a bit of a freak for plants, but it could have been worse in the end, <em>and she’s bloody cute, and perhaps she likes me back – no, right, she’s said she does like me</em>. He reckoned it was a bit awkward to just stand there wait for her to come back and, er, have sex; he thought about checking what could have been wrong with the table’s leg and perhaps fix it, but decided it wasn’t a good idea in the end.</p>
<p>She came out of the bathroom in a short – greenish, he couldn’t help noticing – dressing gown, to James’s slightly disappointment as he didn’t have the chance to undress her the way he’d wanted to.</p>
<p>“May I use the loo as well?”</p>
<p>“Sure…  there’s a clean towel on the sink – and, James?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“Any chance you’ve got a condom?”</p>
<p>“Er, well, yes”</p>
<p>“Great, you’re brilliant”</p>
<p>He just smiled in response. <em>Note to self: buy Hammond a cold one.</em></p>
<p>The clean towel was, unsurprisingly, green and there were plants indeed; James has intended to freshen up, but once inside he found a bit of an issue with the logistics of it. The towel was large enough to be wrapped around, but it really didn’t feel appropriate to pop back in the living room half naked, <em>what’s the etiquette here? She’s got the dressing gown, what about me? </em></p>
<p>Eventually, he got out of the lavatory all dressed the same, complete with the unbuttoned shirt, cleaner underneath and with his hard-on conveniently arranged sideways in his pants.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey”, he heard Beth calling him as soon as he came out of the lavatory: he found her, a couple of pillows in her hands, in the conveniently dim-lighted bedroom – and he couldn’t help noticing ‘only a couple of plants’ indeed, except that one was another huge palm, probably even bigger than the one in the living room. She looked at him expectantly first, then puzzled:</p><p>“Oh well, you could have taken it off now… I mean, if you still want to…”</p><p>“Er, oh, yes, sure…”, <em>should have gone for the towel,</em> “I just didn’t feel to walk here… naked…”, <em>oh stop being that sincere May, that’s a terrible sign.</em></p><p>“Oh, ok", and she put the pillows on the armchair in the corner and reached him, "so... would you just let me…” then placed her hands flat on his chest, under the fabric, sliding them up to his shoulders to make his shirt fall down on his arms, while leaving a trail of pecks from his sternum up to his neck, and once there the pecks turned in wet, open mouthed kisses all along the course of his muscles.</p><p>Hoping for Beth not to stop, he hurried to take his shirt off by himself, mostly to have some sort of justification for doing the same on her, aiming to take off her dressing gown: he placed his hands under the fabric, just above her breast, and tried to do the same as she did, opening it up while sliding his hands on her shoulders first and then down her arms. And he succeeded, because she didn’t restrain him, let her gown slip off one arm at time and also quickly untied her belt herself. And having Beth naked in front of him, clung to him, skin to skin at least for their upper halves, made his cock trembling and all his work of arrangement go useless.</p><p>Luckily for him, after a handful of seconds she muttered something from the crook of his neck: “This is unfair”, she said, “You should take these off as well”, tugging at his pants. James managed to toe off his shoes, trying to be as quick as possible, despite for the beat his heart skipped when the back of his hand brushed against Beth’s groin while he was undoing his trousers, and <em>come on May you can’t be that slow with a bloody button; </em>he pulled down pants and trousers together, then his socks as well, leaving it all in a pile of clothes on the floor.</p><p>Meanwhile, Beth moved on the bed, where he nearly jumped on as soon as he’d taken off his watch as well, to finally take her in his embrace, hot and passionate, and under his touch she was as soft as he recalled, <em>it hadn’t been the wine or anything, she’s just that soft</em>; soft, luscious and so inviting that he stopped thinking and just aimed to taking full hands of her as long as she was willing to give him, to fulfil the need that has grown visceral at that moment.</p><p>“Oh James!”, she almost chuckled at his enthusiastic approach, but soon kissed him again, ravenously, and even if he’d given up thinking he still understood he wasn’t the only one longing for such an intimate proximity, whether it was for a mere physical need or something deeper.</p><p>James’s hands were roaming all over her, trying to be as gentle as possible but so yearning for contact: he found himself grabbing her a bit too tightly, probably, but he felt comforted by feeling her doing the same, her touch leaving trails of goosebumps all over him and what felt like scratches sometimes. It was engaging and relieving, but his cock was almost painfully hard and he couldn’t help suggesting for something more:</p><p>“D’you…”, he started to say, unable to find the right word to go on; fortunately, he didn’t need them because she promptly replied:</p><p>“Yeah, just… put it on, please”</p><p>James leant out of the bed to recover the condom from his trousers crumpled on the floor and wore it on, aiming for the best compromise between speed and efficacy; meanwhile Beth was untucking the sheets and he was quite happy of how she wasn’t staring at him doing <em>that,</em> unless until she asked:</p><p>“Would you let me stay on top, at least for the start?”</p><p>James would, but he was quite self-aware of the size of his belly and totally not proud of it, and he felt a bit too overexposed just lying flat there, worried by the vision of his old chap, still reliable and enthusiastic but nevertheless old, disappearing under the looming bulge of his stomach. <em>No, better not Beth, you’re not going to like it</em>, which, rephrased in a less sincere but definitely more elegant way, sounded like:</p><p>"My lower back is probably going to hurt soon…”</p><p>"Just bend your knees”</p><p>"But you're not going to, er, fit...”</p><p>"Trust a doctor, bend your knees, I'll find a way - better?”</p><p>He turned on his back and bent his knees as she said, nodding and taking care not to accidentally spot whatever inglorious arrangement his cock has taken down there; it was probably a more comfortable position for his back, he was considering, but perhaps it was just the sight of her, sinuously moving over him, that made him forget any concern.</p><p>Straddled over his lap, she gently took his cock between her fingers, “Ok, now just let me...”, to angle it towards her groin, and James shuddered despite the delicate contact was also dampened by the condom.</p><p>Beth wiggled her pelvis to rub the tip of it against her vulva, twice, with James shivering at both the view and the feels, before aligning herself to slowly slide down around his shaft, lowering her pelvis until she was practically sat on James’s lap, his cock deep inside her. James did his best to keep his eyes open, despite the bursts of sheer pleasure coming up from his groin that were making him throw his head back, to enjoy such a view: "Oh… You... you're gorgeous Beth”</p><p>After a twitch that James hoped to be of pleasure, she started rocking over him, keeping one palm flat over his chest and grasping his shoulder with her other hand, for balance. "James... you feel so good…”, and she moved her hand from the chest up to caress his face, and James took the chance to grab her wrist and kiss it, before placing both his hands on her hips to try to keep up with her pace. It wasn’t the best angle for him, but she seemed to enjoy it and the hypnotic rhythm of her breast jiggling in front of him was doing him something. And he was prone to believe that yes, he was as good as Beth kept repeating, but it was mostly because of her. It wasn’t that hard to just lie there, with Beth doing almost all the work, and it wasn’t that bad as well, but he was craving to touch her, to kiss her mostly. So he tried and asked:</p><p>“Please Beth let me… let me grab you, let me kiss you”</p><p>only to regret it and feel embarrassed by how it sounded like a beg; it worked anyway, since she smiled and bent down enough to reach his mouth, but at that move his cock slipped out of her.</p><p>“Ouch… oh, sorry”</p><p>“It’s ok… just stay here please…”, he said, cupping her face to lock his lips on her mouth in a long, deep kiss and in many more to come, and he took his hands off only when he was sure she wouldn’t break away, feeling daring enough to grab her buttocks to hold her close. <em>Softness.</em></p><p>“Must… tie my hair…” she tried to say among the kisses and the moans, but James was of a different mind: he recalled they hadn't talk this much last time, the first time, and yes, everything went smoothly all the same, but he liked this talkative version much more, he liked this Beth much more, and he wasn’t sure to dismiss the chance it was because of her hair being left loose. So, no, “Please no, don’t”.</p><p>“We’re going to choke on them soon…”</p><p>“Nah, let me show you”, he said, and grabbed her to roll together on their side first, then pulled out his arm to set himself over her, and she ended up lying on her back, as he wanted her to.</p><p>“Your back is going to hurt all the same if you’re planning to stay like this”, she pointed out, but he was too focused on moving carefully around her to catch the reference:</p><p>“My back what?” <em>Oh, yeah, got it – too late.</em></p><p>She chuckled at his reply, and James thought there wasn’t any better sound in the world than that, <em>I’m being a moron and she laughs nevertheless</em>; he leant down and kissed her again, forcing his hands between her back and the mattress to grab her and keep her close, dragging his mouth from her collarbone up, with her moaning in response; a deep, lustful moan that made James’s cock shudder in the search for some friction. Thankfully, among James’s smooches and her groans, she muttered:</p><p>“Come on here… I so want you…”</p><p>He stood on his knees to check the condom was still in place, but before settling down between her legs again he got a glimpse of her lying in front of him and Beth was looking like a magnanimous goddess, hair scattered on the mattress to form a dark crown around her head, waiting for him, wanting him. <em>And</em> <em>you’d better don’t make her wait any longer May</em>.</p><p>James leant down again and gently pushed against her, and she wiggled her pelvis to set around him, grabbing his hips to adjust his movements; he let her choose the angle and the depth, committed and enraptured, shivering in pleasure as she was growing hot around his cock, until she pulled him firmly towards her, with a satisfied moan and a cute smirk on her face.             </p><p>He took it as a sign he could try and set the pace, so he placed his hands flat beside her and began to move in slow, deep thrusts that made her throw her head back, and his insides burn hot in waves of pleasure, rising from his groin up to his brain. <em>This is good. This is good, again, </em>“Beth, you’re so good”.</p><p>“Oh James… you’re good… this is good…”, and he was thankful she was saying so, because she kept writhing under him and he wasn’t sure it was for pleasure; he switched to a different rhythm, increasing it  to a pace that felt more natural and that he could sustain for longer, and she kept calling his name and praising him while holding herself to his shoulders, playing with his hair or caressing his face every now and then, sometimes stretching her neck to reach him for a kiss.</p><p>After a couple of minutes of such an intense and pleasant activity he noticed she had become almost silent, perhaps more concentrated, until she practically begged him:</p><p> “James please… Please keep going like this".</p><p>She quitted running her fingers through his hair and her hand was now firmly cupping his nape, while with the other she was seizing the back of his thigh, pressing him against her. James kept going, trying to keep his pace as regular as possible, until she cried out a feeble, chocked sigh: she arched her back and her legs shuddered, but instead of being pushed away, he ended up trapped between them, as she curled up and embraced him. She was clinging to his neck so tightly that her back was lifted from the bed: he balanced himself on one arm and used the other to support her head, then to gently lay her down when her grasp became looser.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James kept holding her for a few seconds, like she was a precious, fragile statue, until she opened her eyes again; he attempted to move aside but she didn’t let him, keeping him close, one hand in his hair to pull his head towards her and murmur in his ear:</p><p>"I could turn around now, it will be better for your back…”</p><p>James quickly evaluated her offer, but as much as he guessed it would actually have been a more comfortable arrangement, he didn't want to lose the chance to see her face, to check her reactions for both feedback and his own satisfaction. So he declined, as politely as he could:</p><p>"No, no need to... it's not that bad, and... I do like to have you closer”<em>, too sincere, again, May, when are you going to learn?</em></p><p>"As you wish. Come on here then.”</p><p>He settled right between her legs again and deep down in her, his cock sliding in easily to find her hotter and softer than before. She cupped his face and kissed him, and it felt different to James, probably less passionate but more caring, and even after having broken off the kiss, she kept caressing and stroking him, and that was doing him something. Together with the warm tone she used to talk to him - those "James... you're gorgeous... you're so good..." to which he couldn't reply with anything better than her name, muttered among his groans - the way she was filling up all his senses made him go wild, in an almost unbearable heat that had him increasing the pace he was moving at, driving him terribly close to his point of no return.</p><p>“Beth… I’m- oh god… I’m not going to last… much longer…”</p><p>“Go on then…”</p><p>He didn’t take him much longer indeed: he gave up any effort to endure and stood up on his knees, grabbing her hips for the last couple of calibrated, well-placed thrusts after which he came, his orgasm so violent and consuming that he almost lost his balance. Panting for breath and from pleasure, he used his last drop of sanity to avoid crashing down straight, ending up next to her, their legs still entangled, and just lay there, panting and still unable to put together a few words, except for a final “Oh, Beth…” barely murmured.</p><p>“Shh”, she replied, and placed one arm across his chest and he put his hand over it, rubbing his thumb on her wrist. It took him a couple of minutes to get his breath back: he managed to take off the condom and then fell again next to her. In the post-orgasmic drowsiness, he felt Beth stretching over him, likely to grab the sheet with which she covered them both, and he shifted to fit under it. Adjusting under the sheet, they both ended up lying on their side, spooning skin to skin, with James’s belly stuck to the hollow of her back. It felt so natural it took James a while to realise how close they still were, how intimate that was: Beth was resting his head on James’s bent arm, while with the other James was holding her close, his hand on her shoulder, close enough for her to kiss it. James’s face, instead, was hidden in her hair, with his nose brushing her nape at every breath he took.</p><p>“How come that you’re so smaller than me, yet we fit so perfectly?”, he mumbled, a few hairs sticking to his lips as he spoke.</p><p>He felt her cheek lifting against the skin of his arm, but she didn’t answer, and James rethought what he’d just said and felt the need to apologise:</p><p>“Sorry, it was a bit too mushy, mh?”</p><p>She shifted and turned, facing him:</p><p>“No… it’s ok… and you’re right… this feels good James, you’re… a nice place to stay.”</p><p>“Oh well, I know I’m a bit overweight, but nobody has ever called me a place yet!”</p><p>“Oh no, no, that’s not the point-“, she tried to explain, but he really didn’t care and just held her tighter:</p><p>“Shh, no problem, I like being a place you’re staying… I quite like you being here, in my arms… I quite like you”<em>, I like you a lot Beth. </em></p><p>She curled up against his chest, and a few more minutes passed, silently, with Beth breathing up against him and his arms all around her. He could have easy fallen asleep just there, if it wasn’t for the turmoil he was feeling inside, so inadequate to her peaceful rest, to the freshly baked caramel custard sensation that came to his mind again, to the belief that she wouldn't run away this time, and not only because they were at her place. Or, perhaps, the turmoil was the only appropriate reaction he could have had to those considerations, and to whatever they were implying in the end.</p><p>Minutes passed before she broke the silence between them:</p><p>"So... You're leaving tomorrow?”</p><p>"Er, yes… Plane at 5.”</p><p>"Is it weird if... I already ask you out again... once you're back?"</p><p>"No", and he instinctively kissed the top of her head, "I was thinking the same. And... it's not because of -this-, I mean, this is great, but there's... there's something else."</p><p>"We'll discuss this once you're back, ok? Told you, I'm terrible at this, I like you but, well, it's... complicated, James. We'll see, ok? And yes, the sex is great, by the way”, and he raised an eyebrow, chuffed, before she went on</p><p> “And… I really need to have a wee now, so please excuse me”</p><p>“Oh, sure, no problem”, and moved his arm away for her to get up.</p><p>Alone in her bed, he took the chance to roll on his back and stretch; his mind wandered in some sort of analysis of what had happened, that was inevitably premature and rambling, especially for the quick conclusion he came to - <em>Don't. Don't say it James, it’s clichéd and biased, it’s too soon at least, just don't.</em></p><p>So he just kept lying there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think about something else or to not think at all, until he got startled by Beth coming back.</p><p>She was now wrapped in a towel, and James quickly checked that the sheet was covering his groin at least -thankfully, it was – before coming up with some sort of justification for having practically occupied the whole bed, slightly ashamed of having been caught like that:</p><p>“Oh, sorry… It’s comfortable…”</p><p>"No problem. Listen, I don’t mean to throw you out, but… I guess we both need a shower and some rest; you can use mine, of course, but I’m not going to be of any company for a while… I’m knackered, and… well, it’s your fault in the end”</p><p>“Oh, thanks”, he chuckled at her last words, inwardly flattered, “And yes, you’re right… I’ll just use the lavatory again, then I’m going, ok?”</p><p>“No problem, take your time, I’ll be in the kitchen”</p><p>He grabbed all his clothes from the floor and carried them with him in the bathroom while she was conveniently at the other end of the small flat, to emerge five minutes later, all dressed up but still in need of a good shower underneath.</p><p>“Fancy some tea?”, she offered when he walked back to the living room.</p><p>“Oh, no, thanks. I’d better just go…”</p><p>“So... see you soon, ok?”</p><p>"Sure. I should be back on Saturday, but probably I will be sleep deprived and completely intractable, so... I'll let you know as soon as possible, ok? My schedule is awful…"</p><p>"No problem, just let me know. And take care.”</p><p>"You too”</p><p><em>There should be a kiss now, Beth, unless I’m getting this all wrong.</em> And he suspected he had said it loud, as Beth got closer raising her head towards him and he leant down until their lips merged, in a kiss that was way chaster but felt almost better than those they’d shared until a few minutes before.</p><p>She broke the kiss, falling back down from the tips of her toes she was standing on, and he got that chance to shove off.</p><p>"So… I'm going, I’ll text you, ok?”</p><p>Beth nodded as they walked towards the door; she opened it and James walked through it, turning around to look at her one last time. <em>She looks way more embarrassed than before</em>, when she was moaning naked under him, he couldn’t help thinking, so he tried to be the sensible one.</p><p>“Er… ok, bye Beth, see you soon.”</p><p>She chuckled at his words, then finally looked at him again, hesitantly, to explain:</p><p>“I’m sorry… It’s been… great, really, it’s just that I need some rest now, ok?”</p><p>“No problem, me too”</p><p>“So… bye James”</p><p>“Bye”, and he turned away.</p><p>The door closed behind him, and he walked down the stairs and away, still sweaty and with his clothes almost sticking to his skin, up to where’d left his car. He drove home and, once there, crashed on his own bed, worn out but oh so damn content.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James woke up just after midnight, confused, hungry and sticky from the last events, <em>last deeply pleasant events</em>.  He went for the shower first, a long, hot shower - <em>hot, like her, oh good Lord, May, stop being such a pervert -</em> then moved downstairs to eat something, and in spite of the late hour it seemed the right time to open one of those craft beers he was saving for special occasions. He’d toasted Beth – human Beth - first, then the vegetal one that he had left on the table before and he was now staring at. Then one to his old chap and the last to himself, before going to bed again at around two, this time conveniently undressed and under the blankets.</p>
<p>He woke up again, late in the morning. It took him a while to get ready for his breakfast, and as he’d turned on the stove he looked around for his mobile. He found it, still in silent mode from the day before, battery almost dead and plenty of notifications of missed calls, emails and messages. Among all of them, a text from Beth and a whole feature-length monologue from Hammond were the only ones he was actually interested in. He went for the first, not knowing what to expect from it.</p>
<p>‘This is probably redundant, but it’s been a lovely day James, I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon. Take care, xoxo’</p>
<p><em>Oh. Me too Beth, me too. </em>He intended to reply her as soon as he’d have managed to compose a better answer, but he was curious to see what Hammond’s fuss was all about.</p>
<p>‘Morning May, stop thinking about the pussy and pack your suitcase’</p>
<p>‘Hey mate I was just taking the piss, I hope everything went alright’</p>
<p>‘Please tell me you’re not shagging her right now’</p>
<p>‘Just wanted to remind you we have a plane to take in a few hours’</p>
<p>‘Oh come on May’</p>
<p>‘Are you dead?’</p>
<p>‘If not, Andy’s going to kill you anyway if you’ll miss the plane’</p>
<p>‘Bloody hell May, I’m starting to worry!”</p>
<p>Feeling like he owed him a sign of life at least, he rang him up. Richard didn’t even say ‘hello’:</p>
<p>“May, you absolute twat, what the hell were you fucking doing, you massive bellend?”</p>
<p>“Calm down, Hammond, I’ve only overslept”</p>
<p>“I was going to call the fire brigade if you weren’t going to answer by noon! I thought you might have had a heart attack, or broken a leg coming home from the pub pissed, or ended up in a tube of ice with a missing kidney - or two!”</p>
<p>James let Richard vent all his apprehension, since he sounded seriously concerned in the end, going through another one of his monologues – the audio version, this time - while setting the table. He was trying to do everything with one hand only, without putting down his mobile, but while moving around he overlooked the cactus that was still there, accidentally elbowing it and making it fall on the floor.</p>
<p>"Oh crap I've knocked out Beth!”</p>
<p>"Whaaat?”</p>
<p>"No, no, Beth the cactus, not her… not… my girlfriend, I mean”, James cut it short, struggling for words and wanting to pick up the poor plant.</p>
<p>"Your <em>what</em>? May, are you gone completely mad?”</p>
<p>"Just shut up and wait, I have to pick it up... ouch”, James tried to grab the small plant without getting stung and placed it back in the pot, that luckily hadn’t broken, leaving the job of sweeping and putting back in the fallen soil for later.</p>
<p>“It's a - bloody spikey - plant... she bought me... well, I bought on her advice, and I've called it Beth..."</p>
<p>"To be honest I was referring to the 'girlfriend' thing, but this one is shocking as well... I guess your last date went good then, besides the plant.”</p>
<p>“Er… not your business, but yes. And what should I call her?”</p>
<p>“Not my business! Anyway, good for you mate, see you at the airport, don’t be late”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>He was. He managed to complete all the necessary tasks – suitcase, documents, turning the gas supply off, everything - to leave from his home at an acceptable time, by his standards. Nevertheless, he was running late since he’s had the terrible idea of bringing Beth at Beth’s, because while he was trying to put it back together with the soil and everything, he felt completely uncapable of taking care of a plant and definitely not intended to turn up at her in a week with the dried-up carcass of what was <em>her</em> plant in the end. And now he was driving at walking pace in the traffic, in a part of London that was right opposite to the one he should have been, with a suitcase in the boot and a cactus on the passenger seat – with its belt fastened.</p>
<p>James left his car in the Sainsbury’s park and jogged to her place. He rang her bell hoping to find her at home, not having any kind of plan B, wondering if a cactus could be brought on board while waiting for a response<em>. </em>Thankfully she answered, or at least his intercom crackled something.</p>
<p>“It’s me, James”</p>
<p>The door unlocked and he walked in and up the stairs two steps at a time, to find her waiting for him on the door, bewildered and surprised.</p>
<p>“Please excuse me, it’s just that I didn’t want to leave Beth alone the whole week… could you take care of her until I’m back?”</p>
<p>“Oh, ok… no problem”, she replied, still incredulous, while taking the small pot from his hands. She gave it a quick inspection, looking suspiciously at James, but didn’t say anything about the reasons why the plant was leaning on one side.</p>
<p>“And… since I’m here… I’d so want to kiss you again Beth – please forgive me”, <em>forgive me for being so inconveniently sincere, mostly.</em></p>
<p>“Forgive you? For what?”, she asked, puzzled, and took a step back making space for him, “Why don’t you come in?”</p>
<p>“No, I really can’t, I’m already late for the flight… just take care of Beth, please… er, both Beths, ok?”</p>
<p>She nodded, understanding:</p>
<p>"Sure. And… they’re both going to miss you a bit...”, she added, winking at him under a light blush, and he felt way too flattered by her hint:</p>
<p>"Oh, what are they going to do when I'll leave for weeks?” <em>Oh hell did I just say that?</em></p>
<p>He felt his cheeks flushing red and his heartbeat skyrocketing, while Beth’s jaw dropped a bit before she replied, sounding more amused than shocked:</p>
<p>"Oi! Someone's got plans, mh?"</p>
<p>"Er... sorry. It came out like that.”, <em>May, you complete moron.</em></p>
<p>"It's not a bad thing in the end…”, she offered, “We’ll talk about it once you’re back ok?”</p>
<p>“Oh, ok, if you want to…”, <em>and there’s going to be a lot of talks to do Beth, please be patient with me.</em></p>
<p>“Great…”, then she stretched towards him, holding the pot aside, and he thanked God for her tolerance in the split second before leaning in, placing his lips on hers, in a kiss that lasted until the alarm going ‘I’m late I’m late I’m late’ in his mind became unbearable. He looked into her eyes a second longer, before dashing off:</p>
<p>“Sorry, really gotta go… bye Beth, take care”</p>
<p>“You too, bye James”, and they parted.</p>
<p>He was too late to afford any further gesture, he just run down the stairs and up to his car, keeping his fingers crossed for the traffic to be light. He hadn’t left yet, he was looking forward to coming back.</p>
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